


Hero Housekeeper

by KaiRenshiro



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Elseworlds, Detective Comics (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Justice Society of America (Comics), Outsiders (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Asexual Character, Comedy, DC Comics References, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Multi, Mystery, New Earth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23294011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiRenshiro/pseuds/KaiRenshiro
Summary: Fresh into the city of San Francisco, high-schooler Nathaniel 'Nate' Wallis has landed a job as the housekeeper of Titans Tower, the base of operations of the world-renowned Teen Titans.A fastidious person and compulsive neat freak, Nate is determined to make the most of his job and create a good impression on his superhero tenants. But when armed thugs invade the Titans Tower, Nate finds himself pulled into the Teen Titans everlasting battle against evil. And if he wants to survive, he will have to expand his skills beyond cooking and cleaning. As he takes on gun-toting goons, criminal masterminds, super-powered assassins and psycho ex-girlfriends (really, don't ask), Nate will finally become the person he is meant to be - The Hero Housekeeper!Hero Housekeeper is a story about friendship, heroism and bettering oneself - with all the insanity, action and superhero hijinks of a DC Comics story!
Relationships: Cissie King-Jones/Original Character(s), Kon-El | Conner Kent/Cassie Sandsmark, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake
Comments: 34
Kudos: 10





	1. Prologue - Nate Hates Mornings (1/2)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks so much for stopping by :D   
> Just a little heads-up that this is Part 1 of 2 for the Prologue and that the story won't *REALLY* kick off until the first chapter.   
> Might be a little bit of a wait but I assure you, just power through them and it'll be worth the wait. 
> 
> Language Warning.

_Every person has some kind of morning ritual._

_Some people wake up early, squeezing in a quick exercise session or shower before breakfast. If they're lucky, they might have a significant other or family to see them off._

_Others follow a similar routine, albeit in a more zombified state. This happens to more people than you think. And finally, there are people my age, the ones who skip the exercise, shower and breakfast and just jump straight to moaning, groaning and cursing the day. And if you had all the high school and millennial BS to deal with all day, you'd be edgy too. But what's my morning ritual, you ask? Well, I make breakfast for super-powered teenagers. ...And do their laundry. And their beds. And clean their HQ. And of course, gardening._

_My name's_ **_Nathan Wallis,_ ** _and I'm the Hero Housekeeper!_

**_******_ **

_*Deet* *Dee-*_

My alarm clock barely has time to ring before I swat the snooze button and kick off my bed sheets, wiping my hands over my face as I will my grogginess away.

 _Another day_...

A yawn creeps from my mouth as I shuffle over to the wardrobe wall behind me, it's cream panels and doors a blinding-white in the dawn light. I depress the panel furthest on the left, the wall humming lowly as one of the wardrobe doors slide open.

The coolest thing about living in a state-of-the-art superhero base? Even the wardrobes are high tech.

A light smirk grows on my face as I pull a black hoodie and grey pair of jeans from the wardrobe, nudging the door shut with my elbow as I toss the clothes on my bed and turn on my bedside radio.

Yes, I have a bedside radio. Sue me.

" _Good morning, everyone."_ a composed voice greets me over the radio frequency. " _It's a fine January morning here in San Francisco. There's still a mid-winter chill in the air with a nippy 59 degrees, but there's a beautiful sunrise coming over the Bay and not a cloud in the sky!_ "

I sigh as I pull the hoodie over my head, just in time to see the sunrise that the radio host was talking about.

And honestly, _wow_.

The sun is just coming over the horizon, bathing the distant islets in a translucent, rust-orange glow that slowly blends to blue as it meets the morning sky. As the sun rises further, the sunbeams fall across the Bay sea, splitting it's shimmering, azure surface with a corridor of translucent, yellow light.

With a sunrise this beautiful, I almost feel guilty that this place is blocking the view for everyone else. _Almost_.

Yep, just another day here at Teen Titans Tower...

**********

The Titans Tower was first built way back in the late '90s by the original Teen Titans, founded by Robin (the _first_ Robin), Starfire, Raven, Cyborg and Beast Boy. The team was originally founded as a kind of meetup for superhero sidekicks, and soon, they ended up becoming a fully-fledged team.

Some B or C-grade villain's causing trouble? Send in the Titans. Something goes down while the Justice League's busy? Titans assemble! Another hero's getting a new sidekick? Bring in the Titans to show 'em the ropes.

Unfortunately, things kinda went downhill from there. Some of the Titans grew up and went their own ways to the Justice League, their own private groups or just faded into the background. It was kind of like a Disney child star when they grow up; except with super costumes and crisis of identity instead of drugs and scandals.

And really, I couldn't blame them - it was just one incident after the other with the Titans.

Having to kill one of their own members, a blood feud with some super-assassin (I dunno his name, Deathswipe or Deathslade, or something), their friend Terra backstabbing them. Then one of the Robins got killed! And that kind of stuff tends to put a downer on memberships...

But it wasn't all bad. Some of the Titans made a name for themselves and joined the Justice League; inspired a whole new generation of heroes after them. Nightwing and Starfire even got engaged, which was nice.

Right up until Raven went skitso and ate the priest's soul, I mean. Damn, talk about objecting to the union...

After that and a few other little incidents, the Teen Titans ended up disbanding, until younger heroes started turning up. Everyone was a bit hesitant about it, but soon the Titans opened up again and relocated. Which brings us to now; a fifteen storey Tower smack-dab in the middle of the San Francisco Bay.

Population? About thirty teenage superheroes, whittled down to a much more manageable six or seven, thanks to the Tower's roster and rotation system.

The Roster and Rotation system states that there be at least five or six Titans staying at the Tower at any given time, usually for a monthly or bi-monthly period. Some Titans like Robin (the third), Wonder Girl, Blue Beetle, and Beast Boy (as core members) have permanent rooms here, but still, swap out from time due to other 'hero' commitments.

The only person who stays here permanently is me since I'm, y'know, the housekeeper and all.

Well, that and...I don't really have anywhere else to go.

_Because of *him*_

I shove the dark thoughts aside as stray sunbeams begin to tumble in through the glass roof above me, forming foot-long squares of light across the hallway floor.

Okay, it's just past 7:30AM now, which means it's time to begin the wake-up call.

Reaching the middle of the hallway, I make my way to a metallic-grey sliding door, a bluish-white panel glowing as I approach it.

**_Robin's_ ** _room._

Usually, I never have to bother waking Robin up like the others - either he wakes himself up, or he pulls an all-nighter on some case. But that's never been a massive loss because it kinda weirds me out going into his room. I'm not sure if it's the bareness of the place (seriously, nothing but a bed and an IKEA bookshelf) or the creepy, cold Batman-ness of it. Either way, walking into his room makes me feel like I'm going somewhere I shouldn't be...

"Um...Robin?" I knock once on the door, lightly. "Breakfast in fifteen, okay?"

"Yeah." a voice affirms from the other side. "I'll be down in five."

Nodding to myself, I move onto the next room three doors down and one across from Robin's; another metallic-grey door, identical to all the others except for the cutesy, green animal stickers on the front of-

Ugh! What the hell is that _smell_?!

I knock on the door twice. "Gar?"

No reply.

"Gar?" I knock on the door twice. "Breakfast will be ready in a bit. Are you up?"

No reply.

Two more knocks. "Gar?"

Again. No reply.

"Oh, for - Gar?"

The door hums as it slides into the wall, the old tofu smell hitting my nose like a tidal wave as I look around the room.

Going into Gar's room was like a Russian Roulette of the animal kingdom, which makes sense considering his name _is_ ' **Beast Boy** ' an all. Was I going to be waking up Gar or a sleeping bear? Was I going to find cute little rabbit all cuddled upon his pillow, or trip over a big-ass python on the carpet? I admit it was a little fun at first, but it got old _really_ quick when he thought turning into a foot-long spider and crawling up my back was 'funny'.   
They don't call him 'Beast Boy' for nothing.

But there were no animals, just a white room plastered in some video game posters and a green carpet covered in - oh, no.

Oh, nonononono, oh, fuck _me!_

The floor is an absolute _pigsty_ , littered with piles of candy wrappers, discarded chip packets and crumbs. A mound of about twelve pizza boxes is piled up at the foot of his bed, right next to a bag of McDonald's takeaway that's so old, it looks like it's about to biodegrade.

Full disclosure, I feel like _crying_ right now.

And at the centre of it all is Gar, snoring on the floor below his bed beside a stack of empty Coke cans, Xbox controller still in hand and a purple throw blanket around his shoulders.

I'm not gonna lie, he looked kinda cute, like a geeky little baby.   
A very _messy_ , geeky baby.

"Gar?" I asked, gently prodding his arm. "Gar? Wake u-"

He rolled over in a flash, a green tiger face roaring at me as I jump back like a grasshopper.

Well, looks like I don't need to worry about that morning bathroom break...

Tiger Gar's golden eyes gleam at me with hostility. But he calms down the moment they lock with mine, his ears pricking up alarmedly.

"Oh!" he murmured. "Sorry, dude..."

He finally sits up, yawning as his features ripple and morph back into a human's.

"Thought you were someone else," he laughs to himself. "Food coma induced nightmare..."

"So I noticed..." I murmur under my breath, my skin crawling as I look back at the rubbish on the floor. "You know I literally just cleaned this room two days ago, right?"

Gar groans as he crosses legs, giving me a sheepish look. Honestly, half the time, I can't believe that Gar is the oldest Teen Titans member. How is it that a twenty-something superhero could let himself go like this? I know he's one of the founding members, but _come on_.

"The new Fortnite season came out last night, so I had to pull an all-nighter on my _Twitch_ channel," he mumbles as he scratches his head. "It got a little tense, and then I got hungry, then I got anxious, and I got _more_ hungry, and then I felt guilty about being hungry, and then I got even _more_ hungry-"

"I get it." I sigh. "Look, I just wanted to tell you that I'm gonna start breakfast in ten minutes, so I need you downstairs before then, alright?"

At the mention of 'breakfast', Gar's eyes light up like a kid in a toy shop. He's up in a heartbeat, running to his en suite with a bundle of clothes in his arms.

"Alright!" he laughs. "I'm just gonna take a quick shower and-"

"Robin's calling a strategy meeting after breakfast." I reminded him. "You can shower later."

I can almost _hear_ his shoulders sagging in disappointment as I walk out the door, looking back with a worried expression.

"And _please_ don't leave any hairballs down the shower drain..." I groan. "It took me two hours to unclog that drain last time!"

Gar whines under his breath as the door slides shut behind me.

Okay, so that wake-up call might have been a bit rough, but the good news is that after Gar, waking up everyone else is a cakewalk.

I skip an empty lot of rooms between Gar and Robin's - the rooms of other Titans away on rotation - and make a beeline for the one immediately after them, a door with a simple 'WG' sign in the centre.

**_Wonder Girl's_ ** _room._

"Hey," I knock on the door. "Cassie, you in there?"

Most of the world knows Wonder Girl as the hot-headed, second sidekick of Wonder Woman, but I'm one of the lucky few to know her by her real name, Cassie Sandsmark - something most, erm...' _healthy'_ teenage boys would kill to know.

"Cassie?" I knock again. "Are you awake?"

Honestly. A smart girl with incredible compassion, a fierce will and boatloads of charisma - but all people see is some blonde piece of ass. I feel like I was born in the wrong generation sometimes.

If Robin wasn't the one running the team, I'd bet anything that Cassie would be.

"Ah, Connor!" a girlish voice squeals. "Stop it!"

A cold shiver runs down my body as I hear bouts of girly giggling, on the other side of the door immediately behind me.

Oh great, it's gonna be one of _those_ mornings...

I sigh and turn around to face a bright crimson door, sprayed with a highlighter-yellow Superman 'S'.

Bet you can't guess whose room this is...

**_Connor Kent AKA Superboy._ **

"Man," a male voice murmured behind the door. "You're so damn hot, you know that?"

 _Aaaand_ Cassie's in there with Connor, well that's just great. If I cringe any harder, I'm gonna break a bone...

 _Please don't be having sex. Please don't be having sex. Please, please,_ please _don't be having sex!_

"Connor? Cassie? You guys decent?"

I hear muffled laughter as the door slides open, Connor and Cassie cuddled up in the former's bed, smiling as if they think I didn't know what they were doing. At least they were clothed. Mostly.

"You guys ever considered hanging something over your door?" I asked, groaning as I lean on the threshold. "Like, I dunno, a _necktie_? A cowboy hat? A red cape or a golden lasso?"

"On what?" Connor snorted, hugging Cassie closer to his body. "There's no doorknob on the door?"

"I'll buy you a new one." I sigh. "I will _literally_ buy you a new door if you promise to cut out the morning PDA..."

Seriously, I'm probably gonna have to _burn_ those bedsheets...

"Aw, c'mon Nate," Connor snickers, unfazed by my protests. "Can't you give us another minute?" 

"Not unless you want to miss breakfast." I roll my eyes. "C'mon, hurry up!"

My eyes stay on Cassie as she stands up, transfixed by the way her blonde hair turns gold in the sunlight and the blush-kissed fairness of her legs as they carried her across the room.

Yep, I can definitely see the appeal.

"Dude," Connor groans, scratching his ebony bed-hair. "Could you stop leering at my girlfriend like that?"

I roll my eyes as Cassie freezes on the spot, glaring at me as she pulls her nightshirt down to her thighs.

"I've told you before, Connor," I answer him tersely. "I'm not interested in that kind of stuff. And I've never 'leered' at anybody in my entire _life_."

Both of them look at me with confusion. Honestly, do I have to spell it out for everyone?

"Anyway," I stand back from the door. "Robin's calling a meeting about that Justice League meetup today, so breakfast is being served early."

Connor lets out a loud groan and throws his head back against his pillow.

" _Again_?! We just _had_ one of those!"

"Hey," I defend. "Don't shoot the messenger! Just get downstairs before-"

_Uh-oh._

Ignoring Connor's moodiness, Cassie crawls up to the headboard of the bed. She kisses Connor on the head, a mischievous smile on her face.

 _Double uh-oh_.

"You're so cute when you're frustrated..." Cassie murmurs, biting her lip as she leans dangerously close to Connor.

"Look you two," I tell them, looking away frantically. "You guys have six minutes to be downstairs. If not, I'm coming back with a chastity belt and holy water, you got that- _OW_!"

Someone else bumps into me, a girl with a stern frown.

"Hey, watch it!"

Oh great, I forgot _she_ was staying here...

**_Suzanne 'Cissie' King-Jones AKA Arowette._ **

Cissie bears a resemblance to Cassie; the blonde hair, her fair skin, even her _name_ (Cissie and _Cassie_?), but the similarities end there. Unlike the tall and muscular Cassie, Cissie is slightly shorter and with a more lithe, toned frame. And while Cassie's blonde hair tumbles out in wavy ringlets, Cissie's falls straight down her shoulders like a waterfall.

Don't let that fool you, though. Cissie's still strong enough to pull a bowstring back far behind her shoulder and knock a guy out _cold_.

I know that for a fact...

But the biggest difference between her and Cassie? She's a much bigger problem to live with.

"...Morning, Cissie." I murmur under my breath.

"Nathan." she frowns. "Perving into Connor's room this early already?"

Her words bite into my skin like icicles. Honestly, this girl..!

Before I can make up a witty comeback, Cissie stands on her toes, looking over my shoulder and into Connor's room.

"I need to borrow your shower for the morning, Cass," she says in a matter-of-factly tone. "That okay with you?"

Cassie nods, a sly smile on her lips. "Sure. I guess I'll just have to share with Connor-"

"Oh, no, you don't." I scowl. "I'm the one who has to _clean_ that shower!"

Once again, P! D! A!

"She's kidding." Cissie scoffs at me. "Don't be a cockblock."

"Hey," I retort. "Connor and Cassie can be as lovey-dovey as they want. I'm just asking them to dial it down a bit in front of other people."

Cissie rolled her eyes, raking her fingers through her blonde hair. "I bet you're just jealous of them."

"Jealous?" I laugh. "What is this? Some crappy school drama?!"

"Whenever you're around, it is!" Cissie barks back.

A smug laugh shakes the air behind us, Connor bursting at the seams as he watches Cissie and I arguing.

"Man, forget you and me." he snickers as he puts an arm around Cassie. "I think it's _them_ that need a room."

I feel my cheeks flush at his remark, but nowhere near as bright as Cissie's.

 _"Shut up!"_ we snap back at them, in almost perfect unison.

Oh yeah, that _totally_ doesn't make us look suspicious.

We both stare daggers at each other, her sapphire-blue eyes boring into my soul as I will myself not to back down.

"Okay, screw this!" she snarls, throwing her reddish towel over her shoulder. "I've got a shower to take!"

A defeated sigh escapes my mouth as Cissie disappears into Cassie's room, her venomous aura following after her. I feel a small, furry form brush past my leg and squat down in front of me, Gar's lime-green cat form.

"Man," Cat-Gar groans. "She's _still_ not over the 'incident' yet?"

"...Evidently not." I answer through grit teeth, memories bubbling up into my mind like grease fat.

The 'incident' that Cat-Gar is referring to happened during my first week here; an _accident_ that Cissie still holds against me a year and a half later.

Some Titans refer to it as ' **The Topless Incident** ' for...um... _reasons_.

My eyes wander over to Cissie's door, just next to Connor's. Or more specifically, the giant dent in the centre of it.

"I still can't believe she tried to shoot you with a crossbow bolt..." Cassie murmured, adjusting her silver bracelets on her wrists.

"Yeah," I admit. "But I after what happened, I'd say that makes us eve-"

"Meeting." Robin reminded us tersely as he moved past us. "Starting three minutes ago!"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a sec!" I call out after him. "I've just gotta wake up Bart-"

"He'll smell breakfast." Connor says as he enters the hall. He kisses Cassie on the cheek as he leaves his room, pulling a black Superman 'S' shirt over his muscular body.

Okay, 'muscular' is an understatement. More like a writhing, Cthulian mass of hard abs...Oh, for the love of God, I _swear_ I'm not into him!

"...Alright." I cave. "But if he starts complaining about an empty stomach, I'm blaming _you_ guys..."

Robin nods once and continues down the hall to the stairs, the others following behind him.

Once they're out of earshot, I let my shoulders sag, a heavy sigh falling out of my mouth.

...I _hate_ mornings... 


	2. Nate Hates Mornings (Pt. 2/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nate must grapple with Cissie's grudges, bad memories and Impulse's speed as he prepares breakfast for the Titans.  
> The heroes ready themselves for a meeting with the Justice League on the other side of the country, unaware of the danger lurking outside the Tower...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse the long chapter, but they'll be a TLDR in the middle! <3 Thank you all for the support and a special shout-out to CROSSOVER15, VIRUS21 and THESILENTONE_94 for their kudos <3 
> 
> QUESTION: Which country are you guys reading this story in right now? I'm in Australia! What about you?

**_ NATE POV  _ **

And that makes three minutes... _ now _ ! 

I flip the eggs with one turn each, the yolks a perfect sunny-yellow and the whites crispy, without a single tinge of burned brown. 

Not to brag, but I think I'm a master at cooking eggs. 

After the struggle of waking them up, the Titans followed me to the kitchen floor two levels down, where I've been getting breakfast ready. 

And if you thought the  _ bedrooms  _ were luxurious, then you hadn't seen the kitchen levels. 

Yeah, that's right  _ 'levels' _ , because as if the bedrooms and quarters weren't fancy enough, the Titans Tower also had three different eating areas. 

The biggest was the aptly named the 'Mess Hall', which was used for when every member of the Teen Titans was here. 

It's got a nice set-up, like a mini food-court, which makes it useful for parties and stuff. But parties means more people and I get a little sketchy around huge groups, y'know? 

The second-largest was the alfresco area; a multi-platform backyard deck, with a mini kitchen and barbeque, all topped off by a sunken ring of bean bags around a fire pit. 

But considering that we're in the ass-end of winter, don't count on us using it anytime soon... 

And finally, there was the 'Kitchen' which was...well, just a kitchen. 

Nothing special about it, it was like any other kitchen you'd see in a house. There was a stove with black elements, ivory wall tiles (that I spend God knows how much time cleaning each week), a large white fridge and two dishwashing machines on either side.

Behind me, opposite of the stove and fridge, was a kitchen bench (or island table, whatever) with a white stone surface and kitchen sink shinier than most people's futures. 

The Titans sat at the table, chatting with each other and playing on their phones as they waited for breakfast. 

It was a basic set-up, basic enough to make a prospective architect cry. But I kinda preferred this space, mainly because of it's intimate and a welcoming atmosphere. Which is good, because nothing is more awkward than having a meal with a group in total silence. 

Plus, being in a smaller room means a smaller group - ergo fewer dishes to make and clean-up to follow after. 

And before you give me crap for sounding lazy, lemme ask you: 

When was the last time you cooked for thirty or forty people in one sitting, with little to no help? How about having every kind of household appliance going off around you and people asking you 'what's taking so long?' every six seconds? 

Still think I'm lazy? Yeah, didn't think so... 

Connor and Bart? They didn't care what you cooked them, so long as it was hot and there were piles and piles of it. Bonus if it royally screwed over your cholesterol and risk of heart disease. 

Cassie? A little less leeway than Connor and Bart, but anything with a salad or exotic fruits and vegetables was the best way to win her over. Acai bowls were her weakness at the moment. 

Ditto for Gar, the guy loves his vegetables. 

Robin handled his own meals (figures), which (nine times out of ten) ended up being some kind of twisted, mutant protein smoothie. I don't know what he puts in them, only that whenever I clean out the blenders after him, I feel like I'm staring at something from a Stephen King book. 

And finally, Cissie, who never skips a beat in reminding anyone how much she  _ loves  _ pancakes and waffles. The only problem is... 

"You sure you don't want something, Cissie?"

"Nope," Cissie answers firmly, tapping her fingers on the island bench. "I'm on a diet."

Ergo,  _ "I don't want anything cooked by Nate." _

On a diet? Guess that's the newest excuse to not eat anything I've made for this week. Honestly, I spent almost three hours looking up tasty pancake recipes online for her -Oh crap! I forgot about Gar's scramble! 

I scoop some sizzling, golden-brown pieces of a tofu scramble onto a black plate, the smell of fried, buttery eggs and peppers filling the air as I pass the plate to Gar. 

His eyes light up the moment he sees the scramble on the bench before him, his mouth salivating as he beheld the peppered tomatoes, tofu cubes and avocado slices. 

"Dude, you're the best!" 

I can't help but feel a touch of pride as Gar says those words, my heart swelling as he decides what to eat first. 

...Only to nose-dive as Gar shifts into an emerald-green pig and slam his snout into the plate, food flying in all directions as he chows down. 

"Ew, Gar!" Cassie exclaims, swatting bits of tofu and spattered avocado off her shirt. She gives up on trying to peel the food out of her ponytail and looks back to her acai bowl, only to find that Gar's meal had gotten in there too. 

Her downtrodden face says it all. Great, now there's twenty-two minutes of my life I'm not gonna get back... 

I roll my eyes and serve up the three eggs and four sausages, sliding the plates over to Cassie and Connor, who got the worst of Gar's food episode. The worst part? He hasn't even apologised yet. 

"It's not an acai bowl or a protein breakfast," I tell them. "But it should be enough until you guys are on the road..." 

Connor nods gratefully, but Cassie looks at me and then the plate hesitantly. 

"Wait," she asks. "What about your breakfast?" 

I shrug. "I'll make myself something later." 

A big, fat lie, of course. I used the last of the eggs for Gar's scramble (a bad idea in hindsight) and I've got too many chores to do today to make another round of breakfast. 

Looks like I'm going without breakfast.  _ Again. _

But the lie goes unnoticed, and Cassie takes the plate with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Nate..." 

"Well, you'd better eat that quickly," Robin advises her. "We need to leave in half an hour if we're going to make it to the Hall of Justice in time." 

And when he says those words, everyone around Robin begins to eat faster, taking no time to savour or regard their meals. 

Honestly, I don't even know why I bother half the time... 

Oh, wait! I have those sausages that-

But as the thought pops into my head, I feel a breeze on my neck, a gust of wind carrying a static charge through the air.

Oh,  _ shi _ -!

But it's too late. A pastel-yellow blur whooshes past me and fishes out the two sausages from the pan, splashing hot grease oil over my left hand. 

Agh,  _ FUUUUUU... _ dge brownies with whipped cream and sprinkles!!! 

"Bart!" Robin snapped, watching me as I pulled away from the stove. "What have I told you about running around in confined spaces?!" 

The blur disappears, leaving a short ginger-haired boy in its place. 

"Mmf, fh-orry!" he mumbles, his freckled face stuffed with sausage. He swallows the rest and grins awkwardly, hopping on the couch on the other side of the room. 

** Bart Allen, AKA Impulse.  ** The newest addition to the 'Flash Family'. 

Speed level? Supersonic. Memory capacity? Eidetic. 

Ability to think thing before acting? Absolutely non-existent. 

Exhibit A, my oil-spattered hand, which is starting to get a nice, lovely red burn mark across my knuckles. All because Bart couldn't wait two minutes for a freakin'  _ sausage...  _

Also, did I mention that this stings like a  _ bitch _ ?! 

And judging by the look of concern, Connor probably knows that already. 

"Yo, Nate," he asks, a worried frown on his chiselled face. "You okay?" 

"Yep!" I whimper. "So...so good!" 

Oh, that is a big fat lie, and I know it. I'm one more bit of pain away from screaming like a little bitch!

"Really?" Cissie snorted. "'Cos it looks like you're about to scream like a little bitch..." 

Ugh, of course, Little Miss Eagle Eyes noticed it...

I take probably the ugliest sounding sniff I've ever made, willing the tears back into my eyes. 

"I'm just...an emotional person..!" 

Enough is enough. I run my hand under the kitchen tap as Bart cackles at something on the TV, kicking his feet in the air. 

Oh, he is  _ so  _ on dishwashing duty for the next month! 

I grumble under my breath as I scoop a spoonful of coffee into a blue cup. As reach over the counter for the milk, (ignoring Cissie's indignant look) Robin stands up with an urgent face. 

"If that's all," he began. "We should all suit up. We've got to be ready and in the air in fifteen minutes if we're gonna make it to Washington by 11 o'clock!" 

My ears perk up as I pour myself a cup of coffee. Washington? That could only mean one thing. 

"You guys have got  _ another  _ Hall of Justice meeting?" I ask with surprise. Seriously, once a month is weird but  _ twice  _ a month? Is there something they're not telling me? 

"It's nothing," Robin says quickly. "It's just standard security stuff."

But Connor looks at him quizzically, scratching his black hair. 

"Security? But I thought we discussed that last we- _ OW _ !" 

He's cut off by Cassie elbowing him in the side and probably the most unsubtle 'Be Quiet!' scowl I've ever seen in my life.

I don't need super deductive skills to know that they're hiding something from me, but I don't care. At least not enough for it to be an issue. 

Another part of the deal between the Titans and me is that while I'm involved in their daily lives, I'm not allowed to involve myself in their  _ superhero  _ lives. No back seating their investigations, no using their databases for 'unofficial' reasons, no communicating with the Justice League. 

And  _ definitely  _ no mucking around with their tools and gadgets. 

A sigh escapes my mouth as I reach for the sugar. 

Honestly, you mess around with a few of Robin's batarangs and all of a sudden you're on the 'No Touchy!' policy.

How was I supposed to know that those batarangs were  _ explosive _ ?!

"Um, Nate?" Cassie asks, watching me with concern as I pour the sugar into my cup. "Are you sure that you're not putting too much in there?" 

I shake my head, scooping the mug into my hands and blowing on the rim. 

"I live in a giant Tower full of hormonal, super-powered teens." I remind her. "Between the chances of a super-villain attack or someone's powers going haywire, diabetes doesn't sound all that scary..." 

I sip the coffee quietly as Cissie scoffs at me.

"Here's an idea," she rolls her eyes. "Leave." 

My eyes roll as I put the mug back down on the island. 

"Not a chance. Dangers aside, I actually like it here." 

Sorry Cissie, but you're not getting rid of me that easily. 

C'mon, could she at least pretend that she  _ doesn't  _ hate my guts? I'm paranoid enough living with a demi-goddess, a cranky Superman clone and a one-man animal kingdom. Now I have to tiptoe around a chick that could shoot the nuts off a rat a hundred feet away - a girl that makes Katniss Everdeen look like a stormtrooper! 

My eyes linger on Cissie as she fiddles with her phone, her azure-blue eyes glossy with boredom. 

I guess it's true what they say: the good looking ones are always the psychos.

A sigh escapes my mouth as I finish my coffee. 

_ Ugh, fuck my life...  _

*******

Okay, I know I've said how awesome the Titans Tower is, but I'm gonna repeat it. 

What could be better than the Titans Tower bedrooms? The awesome tech on every floor? The fancy-ass dining areas? 

It's seeing the Teen Titans in costume,  _ up close _ . 

The shine of the costumes in the gleaming sun, the way they seem to glow amidst all the action and just how freakin' badass they all look! 

But as we marched down to the sub-level hangar, the badass factor had begun to wear down a bit - the high I felt killed by loud, pitiful cries on the way down: 

"But I don't wanna go in the quinjet!" 

Robin ignored Bart's complaining, crossing the hangar's black stone floor before Cassie finally gave in. 

"You know the rules, Bart." she said. "We've all got to show up together. You know how the League are about this team comradery thing..." 

"But Washington is so far away!" Bart whined. "And I don't wanna sit in the quinjet for hours when I can just  _ run  _ there?" 

"No." Robin finally said. "If we've all got to go on the jet, then so do you." 

Bart's pace started to slow, the poor kid whining like he'd been shot in the foot. 

And if he doesn't stop complaining, then that might become a reality... 

Look, I don't want to sound like a dick, I mean I understand Bart's situation. He's a speedster, perceiving things faster than others means slower things like a line or a long trip are even worse. 

But he does this every. Single. Freakin'. TIME! 

Just focus on the costumes, Nate. Those badass costumes. 

Which reminds me, I need to do more laundry later. Before the cloudy weather sets in...

"Will you stop looking at them like that?" Cissie groans, sauntering past me like she's the queen of the world. "You look like a geeky fanboy." 

I roll my eyes as she chides me, forcing back some choice words I'm tempted to fling at her. 

Of course,  _ she _ has to kill my buzz. 

But she's probably just jealous that the rest of the Titans have actual costumes. Hers is just some hand-me-down from her mother - something that was made for posing on cameras,  _ not _ crime-fighting. 

I look down at her. 

If you could even  _ call  _ it a costume. A red leather crop-top? Knee-high, red leather boots? If it wasn't for her red bow and domino mask, you'd think she was some kind of kinky cheerleader. 

What's Cissie do when she runs out of arrows? Take the bad guys down with a panty flash? Twirl like Sailor Moon? 

Cissie splays her arms over her chest and lower waist as the Titans enter the jet through via the ramp, sneering at me like a dog. 

"Quit leering, you pervert!" 

Okay,  _ now  _ she was asking for it. 

"Who said I was leering?" I retort. "I'm just trying to figure out if that's a costume or a _ cry for help _ ..." 

Cissie's eyes spew venom at me as they narrow into slits, Connor doubling over with laughter on the quinjet ramp. "Oh,  _ burn _ !" 

Cissie grabs me by the edge of my hoodie and sneers at me, her eyes blazing.

"You son of a bitc-!" 

"Cissie!" Robin calls out. "C'mon, we gotta go!" 

Cissie snarls one more time, scoffing as she lets my hoodie go.

I'm not going to lie, I was a little scared for a moment there...

A  _ little _ scared, thank you very much. 

"This isn't over." she snaps at me. "Not by a long shot." 

I scoff as she reaches the ramp, Connor still snickering to himself. 

"What's not done?" I challenge. "Our argument or your costume?" 

Crap. I shouldn't have said that... 

Cissie spins on her heels, the fire in her eyes returning. "Oh, you rat bastard-!" 

...But Connor took her by the shoulders and spun her back around into the quinjet, giving me a hasty look. 

"SeeyousoonNatewe'llbebackhometonightlater, BYE!" 

I wave back as the engines fire up, sending the quinjet flying out of the hangar like a silver bullet, an ear-piercing  _ boom  _ filling the air. 

And then everything went quiet. 

...Well, I think it's time for me to start today's chores.

**_ (TL;DR: The Titans had breakfast before setting off for a meeting with the Justice League at the Hall of Justice. Nate has been left by himself at the Tower)  _ **

**_  
****** _ **

****_ 3RD-PERSON POV  
  
_

The San Francisco Bay held many secrets beneath the black oblivion of its frigid waters. From the odd bits of flotsam and trash litter to the sunken bodies of escaped prisoners and failed gangster's alike, each 'secret' told some dark story or would play a role in a story yet to be weaved. 

But now these waters played host to a  _ new  _ secret, one that moved swiftly and silently through the Bay waters with the swift grace of a predator - an ebony-black submariner craft with gold circles and hexagons littered across the hull. 

"Coming up on target sir." 

The inside of the craft was abuzz with activity, four of it's passengers reading the data on radar screens intently as a fifth paced across the walkway between them. 

"Maintain a distance." the fifth passenger ordered. "We don't approach until we know that they've gone." 

"Yes sir." another passenger complied. 

It would be a Herculean task to tell any of the passengers apart. 

They all wore the same uniform; black tactical suits with gold and grey swirls, with naught to tell them apart save for the numbers one through five stitched on their shoulders above one word: 

**_ H.I.V.E.  _ **

Suddenly, one of the radar screens came to life. 

"Brother One!" one of the four informed. "The Teen Titans quinjet is disembarking!" 

'Brother One' scoffed, marching away from his partners with an upturned nose. 

"It's Squad Leader now, Brother Three," he told him. "I am the leader of this mission and you will address me as such." 

Brother Three rolled his eyes as the 'Squad Leader' took hold of the periscope above his swivel chair. The device came to life with a low humming and a glimmer of honey-gold light, the Titans Tower filling the lenses. 

And the departing quinjet with it. 

The Squad Leader licked his lips.  _ Perfect.  _

"Your orders Broth- I mean, Squad Leader?" another of the four asked. 

"The mission is a go, Brother Two." the Leader replied, pushing the periscope back into the roof. "Brothers Three and Four - start towards the Tower. Brother Two, prepare the landing gear and Brother Five, maintain the stealth field around the sub." 

All acknowledged the Leader's request with a nod, except Brother Three. 

"The Titans have left the Tower just now, didn't they?" he asked. "Why should we need to be stealthy? We can just charge right in there, get in and out before-" 

"Because we don't know if they've left anyone at the Tower." the Squad Leader sighed. "So if we charge in guns blazing, we could get spotted, and anyone left inside would lock the place down." 

But Brother Two shrugged, looking at the reefs ahead doubtfully. 

"I dunno, sir." he murmured, activating a small touchscreen device in his hands. "The intelligence from our...um, 'friend' said that there were only six Titans at the Tower for the week and since there were six heat-signatures on the jet-"

"Are you talking back to me, Two?" the Leader snapped. "Are you being insubordinate? Do I have to write you up for disobeying my orders?" 

Two trembled, almost dropping his tablet. "N-No, sir!" 

The Leader shot him a cold stare before he turned back in his swivel chair, biting his thumbnail. 

HIVE's upper echelon had been battling the Teen Titans for over a decade now. But after failure upon failure, the echelon knew that today was the perfect time to strike back - especially now that they had the Titans Tower schematics. 

None of this could be left to chance. This was the Squad Leader's first big mission. If he succeeded in crippling the Titans Tower and harvesting the data within, then there was no telling the opportunities it could open up for him. 

He would be trusted with more missions and once he completed those, perhaps even a promotion. And after that promotion, it would be a hop, skip and a jump to a seat at the HIVE Leaders council and after that, perhaps he would even be given a super-soldier position. 

And after that, even the queen would have to acknowledge his prowess. She would come to depend on him for future assignments, allow him into her inner circle, befriend him and perhaps after that...

The Squad Leader grinned lecherously, giggling to himself like a lovestruck school-girl, much to the chagrin of his team... 

******

The craft finally reached the Tower, the squad leaping from the roof of the vessel and starting for the Tower's leftmost wall in tight formation. The Squad Leader held up a fist, the rest of the team hugging the walls as they lifted the sights of their energy rifles to their golden goggles. 

Without another word, Brother Four left the line with a bronze cube - no bigger than a grapefruit - and pressed it to the wall. 

As the cube met the wall, the soldier pressed a set of buttons on the front face, the word 'ARMED' flashing in bright amber letters. The squad stepped back as they saw the letters, the Squad Leader nodding as Three produced a small detonator.

"Breach!" 

Brother Three pressed the detonator, the Tower wall exploding in bright yellow flash and a rush of heat, showering the terrace in smoking stone and metal debris. 

"Move, move!" the Squad Leader signalled. 

In perfect formation, the five of them rushed in, their visored eyes peering down the scopes of their rifles as they entered the foyer. 

_ No hostiles. _

The squad descended into silence, the air palpable with tension as they awaited some reprisal for their entry. But nothing happened, prompting the Leader to raise his hand in an 'A-OK' sign.

The rest of the squad relaxed, breathing sighs of relief as they lowered their guns and lifted their visors to take in the rest of the room. 

"Man," Brother Five murmured. "These kids've got some nice digs..." 

"Yeah!" Brother Four laughed. "This place has more style than all the HIVE bunkers put together!" 

The squad chuckled amongst themselves until the Leader raised his hand in a fist. 

"Focus, brothers." he urged them. "Remember that we are here for a reason!" 

The squad forgot their amusement and stood to attention as the Leader produced a striped, black and amber tablet. As the screen blinked to life, a map of the Titans Tower and its sub-complexes appeared, a yellow light flashing on the third floor. 

"...Alright, the Control Room is on the third floor, and we have T-minus twelve minutes until someone responds to the explosion. We need to be quick! Gather the data and do not - I repeat, do  _ not  _ \- let anything distract you-!" 

_ "Oh, for Christ's sake!" _

The whole squad whirled around on their feet, pointing their guns at the source of the noise - a silver floating stairwell on the other side of the room.

"C'mon guys!" a disembodied voice exclaimed. "What have I told you all about bursting through the walls like that? We've got doors and windows for a reason, you know!" 

The voice started grumbling to itself as a footfall echoed from the stairs, a flush of nerves washing over the squad. 

"Sir," one of the soldiers inquired. "I thought you said that there wasn't anyone in the Tower?" 

The Leader swore under his breath as he looked down his rifle scope. "There shouldn't be!" 

"I mean,  _ seriously _ !" the voice continued, the footfall getting louder. "I  _ know  _ you guys are superheroes and all, but you've gotta know when to be practical and sensible about things!" 

And at last, the source of the voice descended the stairwell, the HIVE squad lowering their rifles in bewilderment. 

"What the hell is this?!" Brother Third gasped. 

It was a  _ kid _ ; a black-haired boy that looked barely sixteen or seventeen, grumbling under his breath as he twirled a broom in one hand and tugged at his earphones with the other. 

"That's  _ my  _ line!" the boy scoffed, too busy with his phone to notice whom he was talking to. "I heard that explosion through a  _ Disturbed  _ song!" 

He removed his earphones, finally looking towards the squad. 

"...Do you have  _ any  _ idea how hard it is to hear something over  _ Ten Thousand Fists _ ?! There's a little hint at how loud the explo-Wait a sec, you aren't the Titans..." 

An awkward silence fell over the lobby, the squad looking even more dumbfounded than the boy did. 

"Who're you supposed to be?" Brother Four asked. The boy felt reluctant to answer the question, but his reluctance was quashed when he saw the rifles in their hands... 

"Um...I'm  _ Nate _ ? I live here?" 

The Leader stepped forward, pointing his rifle directly in line with Nate's face. "Are you one of the Teen Titans?!" 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Nate gasped, dropping his phone as he waved his hands around worriedly. "No, no, no! I'm just the housekeeper!" 

"Housekeeper?!" Brother Three exclaimed. "God _ damn _ ! What  _ don't  _ these kids have?" 

"A  _ living  _ housekeeper." The Leader snarled. "Kill this kid!" 

Nate's heart swan-dived in his chest as the HIVE squad raised their rifles, frantically raising his arms as he looked towards the roof. 

"Tower!" he called out. "Activate lobby defences! Priority Level One!" 

And before the HIVE squad could fire their guns, two large, cubic turrets shot out of the wall beside the stairwell, humming lowly...

The Leader's eyes widened. "Dammit! Get down!!" 

...and discharged an opaque blue beam with a shrill screech. The first beam missed the Leader and Brother Three by a foot, but the second hit Brother Four dead-centre, sending him spin-flying into the wall like a flimsy yoyo. 

The turrets continued firing, two blasts one after the other as the HIVE squad ducked behind whatever cover they could find. 

"Return fire!" the Leader ordered, shooting the turrets as Nate dove for his phone and bolted back up the stairwell. 

"Goddammit!" Brother Two cursed. "If he alerts the Titans, we're screwed!" 

"He won't get far." The Leader snapped back. "Brother Three, activate the jammer!" 

Brother Three nodded in affirmation as he took the tablet from the Leader's hand, lining up some gold circles on the screen until they formed a 'T' shape. Within moments, a garbling noise filled the whole building, every light and electrical device in the Tower powering down as the turrets sank back into the walls.

"The jammer will hold on communications and defences." Brother Three explained. "But the Tower has backup power." 

The Leader smiled wickedly. "I can work with that."

The squad ran from their covers to the bottom of the stairwell, the Leader readying his rifle as he directed them up the stairs. 

But as they scrambled up the stairwell, a bucket came skidding down the landings, spilling its soapy contents all across the stairs. The Leader and Brothers Three and Five got out of the way, but Brother Two lost his footing in a moment of panic. As the mop water cascaded down the stairs, the soldier fell backwards, cracking his visor as he tumbled down the steps like driftwood. 

"Oh, for-!" The Leader groaned, kicking Two's unconscious form aside. "That's it! Five, you go straight to the Control Room and start harvesting the data we need. Brother Three, do a room by room sweep of every floor of this Tower until you find that kid and  _ kill him _ !" 

And without another word, the remaining three scrambled up the soaked stairs, their eyes blazing as they chased after Nate. 


	3. Nate Gets Shot At! (Pt. 1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> H.I.V.E agents have infiltrated the Titans Tower! With no-one but himself left in the Tower, it's up to Nate to defend the base from enemy assault!  
> ...That is, unless the H.I.V.E agents get to *him* first!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the short chapter but the original Chapter 3 was almost 6K words! :o So I decided to split it up for easier reading. Part 2 will be published tomorrow! 
> 
> Once again, thanks so much for the kind responses. What do you guys think of the story so far?

_Oh, crap!_

My legs almost give out underneath me as I bolt around the hallway to the next stairwell.

_Oh, crap, oh crap, oh crap!_

The screech of my sneakers echoes down the whole hallway as I swerve around the next corner and jump for the stairs.

_Oh, CRAAAAAAP!!_

Jesus Jumping H. Christ! How the hell did those thugs get into the Tower?! What the hell happened to our "state-of-the-art" security system?! Guess that's the last time I take Cyborg's word on anything!

My chest starts to hurt and my lungs start to burn like I was breathing fire and not oxygen.

I try to fight for control, to keep my breaths low and quiet so the thugs can't hear me.

But after a few seconds, my throat starts burning and my stomach starts churning, making me feel like I'm gonna throw up.

_Ugh, I'm never giving any slasher film victims any shit ever again..._

I reach the next stairwell, skipping two steps at a time as I hurdle up to the Tower's Kitchen level. By the top of the staircase, I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, my objective just beyond the end of the hall.

_The Panic Room!_

I come to a halt as I reach the shelter's door, pressing a panel to my left. The panel hums with a turquoise light, a hidden keypad and built-in microphone revealing itself.

Okay, okay - what was the passcode again? Think, Nate, think!

It takes a moment, but the password eventually comes to mind. My fingers move a million miles an hour as I punch the numbers in, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

0607-1964! 

_Da-ding!_

The relief washed over me like a tidal wave as the keyboard chirps, recognising the passcode.

My hands shake with anticipation as I grip the handle. Jesus, am I the only one who thinks the code should be something-

_Ca-clunk._

Huh?

_Ca-clunk. Ca-clunk._

...The door wasn't opening.

My blood ran cold as I grabbed the handle with _both_ hands, pulling even harder but the door _still_ refused to budge.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no - this wasn't happening!

I let go of the handle and rush to the in-wall microphone beside the keypad, the angry voices of the thugs echoing downstairs.

"Tower!" I said, my voice a sharp whisper. "Unlock the Panic Room! Access Code 0607-19-"

 _"Unable to comply."_ an automated female voice tells me. _"Tower is currently running system diagnostics."_

My jaw drops as I heard those words. System diagnostic? What the shit was that about?!

 _"Interactive Tower Systems currently unavailable."_ the voice continued. _"Estimated completion time - fourteen minutes and fifty-six seconds."_

Yep, this was happening.

"Screw your diagnostic!" I snap back. "I just need you to open the door!"

A shrill beeping sound came from the microphone. Was I getting sassed by a _Tower?!_

 _"Negative."_ the Tower AI repeated. _"Until the diagnostics are completed, I cannot open the doors. Estimated completion time - fourteen minutes and forty-two seconds."_

Oh God, was this going to be the way I was going to die? Gunned down right outside a _bulletproof_ panic room? Locked out of the one place that could keep me safe because today just _happened_ to be the day the computer decided to check itself out?

See, it's because of shit like this that I switched to Android!

I could see the obituary now - _'Nathan 'Nate' Wallis, 17 years old, shot dead in a superhero base by low-ranking henchmen. Inches away from a state-of-the-art panic room'!_

Oh man, I don't know what's gonna be worse, the irony or the jokes everyone will make about me!

Wait, what if they make memes about me? What if I become the next big joke on the Internet? That it's all I remembered for? Not because of my good grades, my kindness, my work ethic or my good looks (okay, maybe _not_ the good looks) but only because I got shot like in the most humiliating way possible?

Screw that for a legacy!

"He's up there!" a voice barks from downstairs. "Find him and shoot him!"

Oh _, shit!_

I grab the Panic Room handle with both hands, shaking it violently in every direction I can.

"Alright, Tower!" I yell at the intercom. "If you don't open this damned door _right now_ , I swear to God, I'm gonna plug Bart's laptop into your mainframe and download every porn video I can find on his shady-ass browsing history!" 

I jump back, kicking the door with my foot.

"Let's see you run your bloody diagnostic when you're pumped full of porn site _computer viruses!_ "

" _Override command accepted._ " the Tower AI affirmed. " _Opening door._ "

My heart flew into my throat as the Panic Room door finally swung open. I swear I could hear a choir of angels, relief welling up inside me as I dove inside the panic room's metallic walls.

Oh, thank you, God! Thank you, Jesus! Thank all the angels and everyone for saving me! I'll never forget this! I'll love you till the end of ti-

" _Door systems jammed._ " the Tower AI buzzed. " _Please vacate the panic room and call for technical assistance._ "

My head lifted towards the roof, my gratitude churning into simmering rage.

"Oh, you backstabbing, cosmic motherf-!"

"There!" a voice calls out. "He's up here!"

I gasp as heavy footsteps resound at the end of the hall, two of the thugs staring daggers at me as they draw their guns.

But wait! I'm stuck in an open panic room! If they start firing at me, I'm screwed!

My eyes scan the entire hallway, my heart hammering in my chest.

Come on! There had to be some kind of door, closet or alcove he could dive into! Somewhere, _anywhere_ to hide-

Hang on a sec! The kitchen!

I could hear the thugs loading their guns, the ammo cartridges clicking into place as I spied the kitchen door ahead and to my right.

My heart flies into my throat as a surge of adrenaline shoots down my body. As the thugs took aim, my body moved on it's own - diving onto the ice-blue floor and rebounding into a cartwheel as soon as my palms met the floor.

Before I knew it, the world was upside-down, the walls, floor and the thugs blurring into a mess as I rolled straight into the kitchen.

I stood there for a moment, trying my best not to laugh. "Holy shit! That was awes- WHOA!"

A bullet whizzed by the doorway, barely missing my right shoulder. As more bullets start flying, I dive onto the floor again, kicking the control panel on my way down. As the door hisses shut, I bolt to the kitchen island, scooping up the meat tenderiser. And as the doors magnetic locks click shut, I beat the tenderiser against the control panel, sparks and plastic fragments flying everywhere.

Crap, this always looks more badass in the movies...

The adrenaline starts to simmer down, my legs turning to jelly and my hands shaking. I let the meat tenderiser clatter onto the floor, my body collapsing against the wall.

"Jesus Christ..." I pant, my hand the only thing keeping me upright. "Jesus...Jesus Christ..."

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe..! My chest keeps rising and falling like a rollercoaster, but no air is reaching my lungs.

_Small breaths. Small breaths. Small. Breaths!_

Oxygen returns to my lungs as I turn myself around, leaning backwards on the wall. All I have to do now is hide and wa-

_Wait._

My body stops itself from moving, the entire world slowing down around me.

I felt one last sliver of adrenaline lingering in the pit of my stomach. Some small piece that I hadn't spent dodging bullets or trying to seal the door, warning me to stop and think about my situation.

They already know I'm in here. The thugs saw me jump in here and shut the door. And if they want to kill me, they won't let a door stop them.

 _I have to hide_.

My eyes look frantically over the kitchen and the dining area.

_But where?_

The lounges? No, too exposed. The kitchen cupboards? Ugh, I wouldn't fit. The fridge - wait no! Kids get killed hiding in fridges!

Ugh! Even if I _did_ hide, it'd only be a minute before they found me - then it'd be game over. I have to have a plan to stop them from killing me.

But how? I mean, as long as they have their guns and they know where I am, I-

Wait. Wait a second!

A mischievous grin breaks out across my face. _I've got it!_

_********** _

"I'm so _boooorrrrrrrrred_!"

The Titans let out a collective groan as Impulse started whining for the umpteenth time. They had been airborne for barely three hours, but their patience was already starting to wear thin - with nothing but each other's company to keep each other sane. 

Superboy and Wonder Girl sat next to each other on Robin's right, exchanging bedroom gazes and mindless conversation. Beast Boy sat on Robin's left, mashing buttons on a handheld gaming device.

Arrowette sat near the back of the Titans Jet, scraping a whetstone against her arrows as she endured Impulse's tantrums.

And finally Robin, who had to endure _everything,_ all the while trying to keep the jet on the proper course.

"We're all locked in a metal box, thousands of feet in the air." Superboy chimed in. "We're _all_ bored, Bart."

"But I'm _really_ bored!" Impulse whined. "And hungry!"

"Bart," Arrowette seethed. "We've stopped at a McDonalds in Los Angeles, a Chipotle on the Nevada State Line and a dodgy steakhouse near Salt Lake City-"

"Don't forget the spread Nate put up for breakfast." Wonder Girl added. "There were enough carbs on Bart's plate to send Dwayne Johnson to fat camp."

Arrowette rolled her eyes at the mention of Nate's name. "Yeah, yeah, that too. Point is Bart, you should not be hungry!"

Bart cried out again, dropping his arms to his sides as he spun around in his chair.

"Hey, speaking of Nate," Wonder Girl asked as she turned in her chair. "Why couldn't we bring him with us? Seems a little bit mean to just leave him alone in the Tower by himself."

Robin kept his gaze focused on the sky.

"We shouldn't," he said firmly. "This is an important meeting."

He sighed.

"Besides, we're taking enough of a risk as it is keeping him on with us."

"Yeah," Superboy agreed, resting his feet up on a nearby panel. "Especially after all that stuff with his dad and-"

"Connor!" Robin silenced him.

The Titans looked at Robin with confusion, taken aback by his uncharacteristic sternness. The Boy Wonder glanced at his teammates, hoping that they didn't catch onto Superboy's words.

"Point is," he said, changing the topic. "Meetings with the League are times when we discuss things of great importance and confidentiality. Nate would be a security risk."

"He does our laundry." Beast Boy snickered. "I think we can trust him."

Arrowette shuddered as Beast Boy spoke, grinding the whetstone firmer against her arrows.

"Ugh, don't remind me. The last thing I want to think about is him going through my stuff-"

"Oh, c'mon, Cissie." Superboy sighed. "Give the guy a break will ya?"

Arrowette rolled her eyes as she shoved the last of her arrows into her crimson quiver.

"I'll give that guy a break when-"

But something cut her off, a panel light flickering in the corner of her eye.

"Uh," she mumbled, her blue eyes widening. "Robin, is this light supposed to be flashing like this?"

Robin turned his head. "Which light?"

"The uh...the top yellow one next to the radar...screen...thing?"

Robin froze, his grip tightening on the cockpit wheel.

"Cassie!" he called out. "Can you take over for a sec?"

Wonder Girl nodded and hopped into the cockpit as Robin started towards the back of the jet. Following Cissie's direction, he glanced at the transparent screen before him, a yellow light blinking rapidly on the screen's rightmost edge. 

Robin frowned. 

"So..." Arrowette cleared her throat. "What does it mean?" 

"It's a signal the Titans Jet maintains with the Titans Tower," Robin explained, his gloved fingers sliding across the screen. "Kind of like Marco Polo - the signal bounces back and forth so we know that the ship and the Tower are both safe." 

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 

"But the signal has been disrupted. The radar, the signal, communications - nothing from the Tower is reaching us right now." 

Arrowette's eyes widened. "So if the signal's not reaching us..." 

"It means the Tower isn't broadcasting the signal." Robin deduced. "Something's wrong." 

Wonder Girl angled her head towards him but maintained her gaze with the sky. 

"Maybe it's a glitch?" she suggested. "Some kind of brown or blackout?"

"Impossible." Robin shook his head. "The Tower is on a different power grid from the city and can keep going for days, even in the event of a natural disaster. The only way it's going off is if someone turned it off manually." 

Beast Boy's ears pricked up. " _Or_ hacked into it!" 

Robin nodded, scowling as he jabbed a finger in Wonder Girl's direction. 

"The Tower is under attack!" he exclaimed. "Cassie! Get us back to the Tower _now!"_

Wonder Girl nodded, turning the jet sharply and hitting the power thrusters as everyone strapped themselves into their chairs. 

_Nate..._ Robin thought, his hand clenching into a fist. _Please be alright!  
_


	4. Nate Gets Shot At! (Pt. 2/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Teen Titans suspect that something is amiss at the Tower and are on their way back.  
> Meanwhile, Nate has barricaded himself inside the kitchen, fearful for his life as the H.I.V.E thugs close in.  
> But unbeknownst to Nate, the stress of the mission is starting to get to the H.I.V.E agents... 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Swearing, threats of bodily harm and vomiting. Be careful guys <3 

Sparks danced off the last of the door's magnetic locks, the metal rod slowly giving way beneath the white hot saw.   
Brother Three's visored helmet lit up like a crimson Christmas tree as he guided the saw, the Leader tapping his foot behind him.   
"It's a saw, Brother." the Leader snapped. "Not a scalpel! Open this door!"   
Brother Three rolled his eyes, bearing down on the saw. The blade was almost halfway through the lock, the red glow starting to fade.   
"Alright," the thug finally spoke. "But if I break this, it's _your_ ass. I'm not gettin' chewed out by R&D again!"   
The Leader stopped tapping his foot, groaning in disgust.   
"Oh, for Pete's sake." he spat. "You crashed a _scooter_."   
"It was a two million dollar prototype!" Three snapped. "It was a collapsible, laser-mounted Vespa! I got blacklisted from weapons clearance for almost six months!"   
He bowed his head at the saw in his hands.   
"And now here we are, using a _promethium_ , laser-spitting buzzsaw - just to break down a kitchen door and kill a kid? What the hell sort of mission report is this gonna make?! We're gonna be the laughing stock of all HIVE!"   
The Leader narrowed his eyes, folding his arms with flared nostrils. "Have you got something you wanna say to me, Three?"  
"All I'm saying, _boss_ ," Three groaned. "Is that you better be careful not to break your spine from all the pats on the back you've been giving yourself."   
The Leader's eyelid twitched as Three grumbled to himself.   
"You really wanna do this _now_?" he barked. "I am the _Leader_ of this team and I-!"   
"Oh, please!" Three scoffed. "You're only the leader because you kissed up to all of the council! Being a chronic suck-up and butt-kisser doesn't make you better than me, _Gerald!_ "   
The Leader snarled at the mention of his real name, his fingers tensing up.   
"The council put me on here because Queen Bee recognizes my potential! And using our real names in the field is a security risk, _Marvin_!"   
"Why I oughta-!"   
_Clang!  
_ A loud noise cut the argument short, the last of the door's locks coming loose. As the cylinder fell onto the floor, Three turned off the buzzsaw and folded it into a black and gold carry-bag. With a bored expression, he folded his arms, glaring at the Leader.   
"Fine." the Leader grumbled. "You stay here and deal with the kid. I'm gonna go check on Brother Two and make sure he's got the data."   
He scooped up his machine gun from the floor and started down the hallway.   
"And that kid better be dead when I come back. This isn't over!"   
Three sighed as his superior bolted down the hallway, loading his own gun as he pried the door open.   
Grunting, he took a step inside, glancing around at the majestic kitchen before him.   
"Damn," he mumbled in awe. "This place looks like a Gordon Ramsey set."   
And that was no boast. The marriage of dark wood and white-tiled floors, the cutlery hanging up in neat rows, the aesthetically pleasing cupboards. And the table top! Was that some kind of marble?   
_'Kind of a shame I have to kill the kid.'_ he thought bitterly. _'If he's able to keep a place like this clean, I wouldn't mind him giving my apartment a once-over-'_  
A small rattling sound went off near the kitchen area, putting Three on alert. He lifted the gun's sights in line with his right eye, taking slow steps towards the kitchen island.   
"Alright, kid." he called out. "Just make this easy for me will ya? I don't wanna do this either. It's nothing personal, it's just orders. So come on out and I promise to make it quick."   
Silence.   
"Come on..." Three said, dangerously close to the kitchen island. "Don't make this any worse than it needs to b-"   
He turned the corner of the kitchen island, smiling at the sight in front of him.   
The floor was covered in food, every white tile littered with puddles of milk, canned foods and leafy green vegetables. _Refrigerated food._  
And why would all this fresh food be left so carelessly on the floor? Why wasn't it all in the fridge?   
Because the fridge was hiding something else.   
Three whirled around, pointing his gun at the fridge.   
"C'mon out, kid!" he called out. "I found you!"

**********  
  
Nathan Wallis, you are a _genius_.   
I watch the thug enter the room from the pantry cupboard next to the fridge, holding a frying pan tightly in my hand.   
"Damn," he remarks with a low whistle. "This place looks like a Gordon Ramsey set."   
He marvels at the rest of the kitchen's cleanliness (courtesy of yours truly), teetering around as steal a glance at the spilt food on the floor.   
Normally, I'd rather sit on a cactus than leave the kitchen in such a messy state, but this time, it's kind of a necessity. See, hiding somewhere would have been too lazy - there weren't many places to hide. Barring that, it would have taken him two minutes tops to go through all the hiding places and find me - which would end pretty badly.   
But if I 'slipped up' and left 'clues' to where I was hiding, they'd be onto my 'hiding place' in a second.   
I grinned.   
_Right where I wanted them_.   
"Alright, kid." the thug called out. "Just make this easy for me will ya? I don't wanna do this either. It's nothing personal, just orders. So come on out and I promise to make it quick."   
He'll see the mess around the fridge and will think I'm hiding in there. And the moment he opens the fridge door and doesn't see me in there, _that's_ when I'll strike.   
I turn the frying pan over in my hand, the bottom side facing upwards.   
If I can knock him out, take his earpiece and his gun, I should be able to get the upper hand. But since it is a _gun_ we're talking about, I'm going to have to be quick. Any mess-ups and I'm Swiss cheese.   
He's approached the island bench, a smile on his smart-ass little face.   
"Don't make this any worse than it needs to be..."   
I'm just glad this pantry cupboard wasn't completely stocked up - just enough space to hide. Man, I've never been more thankful for Connor and Bart's late-night snacking.   
He's creeping past the cupboard now, right in front of the fridge.   
I nudge the pantry door open, just a crack as I take a deep breath.   
Here we go. Just jump out, hit him over the head and take his gun. So long as I don't kill him, the Titans shouldn't be too worried about what I'm doing with the gun and-   
Wait, do I even know how to use a gun? I know the point and shoot bit but is there any more to it? I've never fired one before so-  
I shake the thought from my head.   
No! I 'll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, I've got to get this done!   
"C'mon out, kid!" he cackles at the fridge. "I found you!"   
He reaches out with his hand, taking hold of the fridge door.   
My grip on the frying pan tightens. Here we go..!   
I bolt out of the cupboard door, raising the frying pan above my head. But as I bring the pan across his head, the thug ducks down...   
Uh-oh.   
...And moves back up, knocking me down to the floor.   
" _Whoa!"  
_ I fall flat onto my back, the frying pan clattering onto the floor beside me as the thug points his gun at me.  
 _NO!  
_ My arm moves on its own, snatching up the frying pan from the floor and holding it up like a shield, just as the thug fires at my head.   
_BANG!_  
I heard an ear-splitting _ding_ as I raised the frying pan and wait for the bullet to tear through and hit me.   
But it never came.   
The dinging noise repeats itself throughout the entire room, across the island table, the stove, the cupboards, the fridge, floor and the cupboard again - followed by the most disgusting 'splatting' sound I've ever heard in my life.   
As I lower the frying pan, I see little dents in the area around me and the thug staring straight at me, blood spurting from a hole in his neck.  
And when I see the bloodied bullet lying on the floor, my brain put the pieces together _.  
No freakin' way! Did the bullet really-  
_The thug lurches forward and coughs, spraying blood all over my face, his body going limp as he collapses on the floor.   
He lies there for a few seconds, spasming like a squashed cockroach before he finally stops, my bloodied face reflected in his dead, glassy eyes.   
My trembling fingers scrape my left cheek, a hot redness running down my fingertips.   
Something lurches in my stomach, a disgusting taste swelling up my throat and into my mouth.   
_Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my Go-_  
I bolt to the kitchen bench, vomiting violently into the sink. When there was nothing left to throw up, my whole body started to shake, my legs wobbling like jelly.   
Until they stopped wobbling entirely and simply gave way under me, bringing me down to the floor harder than the thug did.   
For God's sake - what the hell was going on today?! All I wanted to do was just do my chores and kick back and relax for a bit. Not run from some armed thugs! Was a peaceful day really too much to ask?! Ugh, WHY ME?!  
"Brother Three?" a voice called out. "What's going on in there? Did you get him?"   
My blood ran cold as I heard footsteps from the hallway, the urge to be sick again returning. But I clamped my hand over my mouth, focusing on my breathing as I looked around frantically.   
Crap! I forgot about the second guy! What the hell do I do _now_?   
The footfall gets louder and my heartbeat with it.   
Shit! I can't play the hero card now! I've gotta hide!  
I snatch the dead thug's gun from the floor and weave around the corner of the kitchen island, hiding. After a few seconds, I hear someone come into the kitchen doorway, my body obscured from his line of sight.   
"What the f-?! Three!"   
The mystery person (the others called him 'Leader', I think?) runs over to the thug's corpse. As he gets closer, I turn to my right, sneaking around the front of the kitchen bench to avoid his line of sight.   
"Jesus Christ..." Leader gasps on the other side of the bench. "What the hell did that kid _do?_ "   
The door was still open. If I could wait until he had his back turned to the door, I could make a run for it...  
I glanced around the corner, the Leader thug's reflection gleaming in the spilt milk puddles on the floor. His back was visible in the puddle, but I could still see the side of his face.  
And if Assassin's Creed has taught me anything, you only move when the other guy is turned _around_.   
My fingers squeeze the handle of the gun, praying I don't have to use it.   
The Leader starts to turn again, his back facing the door... _NOW!  
_ I jump up and break into a sprint, running halfway across the kitchen before the Leader even hears me.  
"HEY!" he calls out.   
I hear him click a new round into his gun as I turn around and fire a blind shot in his direction. I wasn't aiming at him or anything else but somehow the bullet ricocheted like the dead thug's did; bouncing off the fridge and hitting the Leader straight in the left shoulder.   
"AGH!" he howls. "GOD. FRICKIN'. _DAMMIT_!!"   
Jesus Christ, what was that fridge _made_ of?!   
But I didn't have time to figure it out. The Leader started firing at me again as I reached the door and swerved around the corner.   
"Tower!" I yell over the gunfire. "Seal all the doors to the Kitchen-Living Room area! System Override - Housekeeper!"  
"Doors closing." the Tower complies. "Closing all doors."   
"No!" the Leader calls out. He jumps back up onto his feet and raced to the door, but it's too late. Before he's even halfway across the kitchen, the door hisses shut.   
I take a step back from the door, holding my hand to my chest as the thug beats the door, screaming out...  
...Actually it's probably best I _don't_ repeat what he said.  
But forget that! I gotta get outta here! 

**********

I finally make it down the stairwell to the Tower foyer, beholding the sonic turret wrecks and shot up sofas.   
Man, here's hoping I don't have to clean all this up...  
But I don't concern myself with that now. Of the five thugs that came into the Tower, two are unconscious, one's dead (still can't get over that) and another one is trapped in the kitchen. There was another guy somewhere but since I haven't run into him, I'm not too worried.   
I make it out the front door and onto the Tower terrace outside. There was no sign of anyone else, nothing but the gentle lapping of waves and the noon sun shining across the San Francisco Bay.   
I bend over, taking a deep breath. Looks like it's all-  
"Hold it right there!" a voice calls out from above.   
I gasp and look up as a silhouetted figure appears in the sky, a gun in it's hand and a jetpack belching fire on his back.   
The Leader!   
Wait, did that guy have a jetpack this entire time? That's bullshit!   
The Leader lands in front of me, tossing his jetpack aside as he storms over. Without thinking, I point my gun at him again, panting as I pull the trigger.   
_Click. Click. Click._  
Out of ammo? _Seriously?!  
_ The Leader thug smacks the gun out of my hands and shoves me against the wall, snarling as he points his gun in my face.   
"What the hell is _this_?!" he barks. "How does some teenage maid wannabe get the better of _me_ and trained HIVE agents?!"   
His words jab at my heart like a knife, my eyes narrowing as he steps back.   
"Maid wannabe?" I scoff. "I'm a _housekeeper_ , you idiot! I've never been a maid in my-"  
My words stop as a memory suddenly comes to the surface of my mind. A memory I thought I'd forgotten.   
A memory I thought I'd _repressed_.   
"Wellll," I murmur, lowering one of my hands. "There was this one time at Donny Masser's house party where I cross-dressed a bit. But that was a dare and I _might_ have been a little drunk-"   
The thug's eyes boggle, looking at me as if I had told him the worst joke ever.   
"What the f-? What the hell is wrong with _you_?!"   
I raise both hands as the words start to pour from my mouth.   
"Anxiety." I babble, glancing away shyly. "Trust issues, neat freakiness, OCD, self-esteem issues, a mild Brooklyn-99 addiction..."   
Holy shit, I'm chatty right now. Does this happen to everyone with a gun in their face?   
The thug seems to share my sentiments, his eyes rolling. "Are you done?"   
"Ummm," I mumble. "I've also been having some...uh... _confusing_ feelings about Brendon Urie and Andy Biersack lately. Does that mean anything?Oh! And there's also this thing I find hot about crop tops and I'm not sure that-"  
"Oh, just shut up and DIE!!" the thug snaps, clicking the hammer on his gun.   
Waves of panic shoot up my entire body, sweating as my eyes fall on the gun barrel.   
Oh shit, this was it! This was the way I was gonna die! Point blank, in broad daylight in the foyer of my workplace!   
I try to jump out of the bullet's path, but it's too late. He aims the gun at my face and pulls the trigger, just as a red blur dives between us.   
"WHOA!"   
The speed and proximity of the blur knocks the Leader over, a familiar face grinning at us.   
"Y'know," Impulse laughed. "It's not very nice to shoot someone in their own house."   
A laugh of relief escapes my mouth as Bart juggles the bullet up in down in his hands, angering the Leader.   
He points his gun at Impulse this time, when an arrow whizzes across the air, tearing straight through his hand.   
The Leader howls with pain, dropping his gun as Arrowette landed beside him, kicking him to the ground.   
"Don't move!" she snapped, nocking another arrow. "Or the next one goes through your shoulder!"   
Oh man, I have _never_ been so happy to see her!  
"Nate!" Robin calls out, emerging from the stairs. "Are there any more of these guys?"   
"Already got them!" another voice responds. I look towards the stairwell just in time to see Superboy appear, tossing a beaten-up thug down the stairs with a laugh.   
I breathe a sigh of relief, my legs giving out from under me as I slide down the Tower window.   
"Whoa, Nate!" Wonder Girl gasps, putting a worried hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?!"   
"Yeah..." I nod breathlessly. "I just...need a minute..."   
"Ohmigod, I'm so sorry!" she whimpered. "We should have been more careful! I never would have left the Tower if we thought that-"  
But I waved my hand at her, brushing away her concerns.   
"It's fine. Really..."   
She smiles and runs off into the foyer, leaving me with Arrowette and a very steamed Leader thug.   
I rub my neck as Arrowette glances at me, a smile forming on my face.   
"...Thanks." I mumble. "Thanks for saving me. And um, I'm sorry about this morning..."  
But she didn't respond. If anything, she looked even more agitated. Her fingers were squeezing her bow and her nostrils were flaring.   
"...'Something you find hot about _crop tops_?"   
My blood ran cold as I heard her speak those words. Oh, shit.   
Arrowette's cheeks started burning as I realized what she was talking about, my eyes drawn to her uniform.  
Red shin-high boots, a white, flowery skirt...  
...And a _crop-top._  
"Whoa, wait hang on!" I plead. "T-That doesn't mean I've been checking you ou-!"   
"You goddamned pervert!" she cut me off, gritting her teeth. "I swear, I oughta..!"   
Okay, now this was starting to tick me off.   
"Come _on_ , you want to do this _now_?" I asked her, scowling. "I just got chased around the Tower, attacked, threatened and shot at - and you wanna start this _now_?!"   
She scoffs at me, relaxing her grip on her bow. "Oh, don't play the victim with me! I always knew there was something off about you!"   
"Jesus, Arrowette, if this is about the Topless Incident-"   
"DON'T YOU MENTION THAT!"   
As our argument started to heat up, the Leader suddenly lifted his head from the ground, his face awash with confusion.  
"For God's sake!" he exclaimed. "What the hells is _wrong_ with you peo-"   
But before he could finish, I brought the barrel of the gun down on his head, knocking him out. Tossing the gun aside, I exchanged one last glare with Arrowette before she stormed off inside, Robin and Beast Boy watching her leave.   
"...What's wrong with her?" Robin asked.   
I groaned, resting my head against the wall.   
"Misinterpreted something I said." I rolled my eyes. "And wouldn't let me defend myself. Typical Cissie..."   
Beast Boy folded his arms. "Oh, you mean the crop top thing? Yeah, that was a bit of a shocker..."   
My eyes widen, my heart swan-diving into my stomach.   
"What?! You guys heard that too?!"   
Robin looked at me with concern, folding his arms.   
"...We arrived just as you started spilling your guts." he explained. "We tried not to listen, but..."   
I hit my head against the wall, a whimper escaping from my mouth. Oh God, my life was _over!_ What the hell was I going to do _now?  
_ "...Someone kill me..!" I cried, burying my face in my hands. But as I tried to will myself out of existence, I felt a hand fall on my shoulder, the sound of Beast Boy snickering to himself.   
"...Not until you live out your Brendon Urie and Andy Biersack fantasies."   
I lift my head from my hands, crying out in despair.   
_WHY ME?!_  
  
  


**A/N: Damn, Nate just can't catch a break, can he?**   
**That concludes the ~~really, long AF~~ prologue for Hero Housekeeper! What do you guys think so far?  
Will Nate ever recover from this ordeal?  
Will the Teen Titans ever leave him in charge of the Tower again?  
Will Nate and Cissie _EVER_ stop fighting?  
Will Nate _ever_ get to live out his rock idol fantasies? XD **   
  
  
**Find out in the next chapter of _'Hero Housekeeper'_ \- 'Nate Starts Super-Training!' **


	5. Nate Gets Super-Training!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time on Dragon Ball- I mean, Hero Housekeeper, Nate was left by himself in the Teen Titans Tower as the supervillain organisation HIVE launched an attack on the Tower. Beset on all sides by enemies, Nate had only himself (and a frying pan) to rely on. Though he almost died at the hands of the HIVE squad leader, he was saved just in time by the arrival of the Teen Titans themselves. 
> 
> And now, the Titans and their intrepid Housekeeper must make plans for the future...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Rushed chapter - please excuse any weirdness and see the notes at the end. TYSM <3  
> Q: Do you guys want the story to be more teen-like? Ditch the swearing or keep it? More comical themes or darker ones? Would love to hear your thoughts on these things. Please dont' be shy to spam the comment section XD ) 
> 
> Shout-out to CROSSOVER-15 for being such a good sport and waiting all this time. You're the OG ;)

Wonder Girl circled the ring on the floor, her hands raised defensively before her blazing eyes. 

"Um, Cassie..?" Nate gulped. "I, uh, need you to calm down...okay?" 

But Wonder Girl ignored him, beating her fists together as she snarled like a rabid she-wolf. 

"Shut up and _FIGHT!_ " 

Nate whimpered, raising his fists in a meek defensive stance.

But Wonder Girl ploughed right through, punching Nate square in the face and knocking him to the floor. 

And everything went black. 

**THREE WEEKS EARLIER**

You want to know the only thing worse than having your home trashed by gun-toting maniacs? 

Having to clean up the mess _they_ made. 

I heave a sigh as clean the scorched floor, sweeping bits of burnt dust and blackened debris into a yellow dustpan. 

It's been over two hours since those thugs attacked the Tower. Two hours since they tried to run me down and shoot me. Two hours since...since...

_Clink, tink, tink, tink..._

_..._ and my hands hadn't stopped shaking. 

The broom rattles in my hands and doesn't stop; even as I grit my teeth and tighten my grip until my knuckles turn white. 

That dry, furry taste in my mouth was still there. And my throat felt heavy, sluggish and sick - like a ball of vomit was lodged in there. 

_...Breathe, Nate. Breathe._

"But how did this happen?" 

I forget my distress for a moment as I hear Robin, Cassie and Gar talking a few feet away, a teal-blue hologram hovering between them. It's a little hard to tell who they're talking to and what they're talking _about_. But the anxious looks on their faces and the glances they're stealing in my direction definitely narrowed it down. 

"Nate," Robin beckons me as if reading my mind. "Could you come over here for a sec?" 

I set the dustpan down near the couch, bringing the broom up into my hands as I approach. The hologram flickers as I cross the foyer floor, but the subject's sturdy build and silver, cybernetic face leaves little doubt to it's identity. 

"Hey, Cyborg."

_Two words I never thought I'd say so casually..._

_"Nate,"_ Cyborg acknowledges me in a burly voice. _"Sorry to be a broken record, but could you give me another rundown of how the attack happened?"_

"Not much else to say," I shrug, raking my fingers through my hair. "One minute I'm mopping the floors upstairs and the next thing I know, those guys are blasting a hole in the wall and chasing me up and down the Tower. What was it you called them, Robin? 'HYDE'?" 

"It's 'HIVE'." Robin corrects me, folding his arms. "Stands for the 'Hierarchy of International Vengeance and Extermination'. They're an organisation of supervillain fodder that specialise in everything from meta-human trafficking to high-grade assassination and mercenary work." 

My eyes boggle in disbelief. _Those_ guys were 'high-grade mercenaries'? One of them slipped on a freakin' _bucket_ and tumbled down the stairs like a limp slinky! That doesn't sound too 'high-grade' to me... 

I held back a smile. 

Jesus, if those guys were the best HIVE has to offer, then I guess I don't have to worry about any more attacks-

_Oh, just shut up and DIE!_

The memory of the HIVE squad leader shoots through me like a lightning bolt; my entire body jolting with fear. My hand starts to shake again, refusing to stay still even as I shoved it into my left jeans pocket. 

Oh, come on! Calm down, calm down, calm down..! 

"...Are you okay, Nate?" Cassie asks suddenly, her words tearing me from my daze. 

"...Um." I stammer. My brain starts scrambling for an excuse, well aware of her sapphire gaze boring into me. "Yeah, I, uh, j-just...h-hurt my leg! Y-Yeah, hurt my leg running away from those thugs. I-It's just acting up is all..." 

Cassie purses her lips and looks away. But before I can breathe a sigh of relief, I feel Robin's eyes upon me; his arms folded and eyebrows furrowed behind his domino mask. 

I shiver. Please don't ask any questions... 

But before Robin could say anything, Gar let out a frustrated groan, gripping his spiky green hair like he was going to tear it out. 

Man, I've never been more thankful for one of Gar's outbursts... 

"AGH!!" he cries out. "How the heck did they get to us like this?!" 

My shoulders sag in disbelief. "Really? You mean how did they find the _T_ een _T_ itans in a giant _T-_ shaped _t_ ower, smack dab in the middle of the San-Fran Bay? Yeah, I guess that is a real head-scratcher, huh?" 

Gar rolls his eyes at me. 

"I know _that,_ " he grimaces. _"_ I meant, how did they get through all the security 'n stuff? C'mon, Cy! I thought you said all this security was state of the art?" 

He grips his hair again, whining and groaning under his breath. 

Man, he's _really_ worked up, isn't he? I haven't seen Gar this on edge since he missed the grand opening of the San-Fran Big Belly Burger.

But still, he isn't wrong about that whole 'state-of-the-art' thing. I mean, I nearly got gunned down outside a panic room and in the freakin' _kitchen_ \- there's nothing 'stately' or 'artful' about that.

...Side Note, delete the _shit_ out of any Tower security recordings of me running around and screaming. Gun-toting super-thugs might not have killed me, but the embarrassment of the Titans watching that footage might. 

"C'mon, Vic!" Gar whines. "Are you tryna pull the wool over our eyes or something?" 

My eyebrows raised. Cyborg's real name is _Vic?_ I always thought he looked like a 'Steve' or a 'Dwayne'.

But Vic (man, that name's _not_ gonna catch on for me) raises his hands, as if in surrender. 

_"Hey, don't look at me. I'm just as in the dark about this as you guys are!"_

The hologram flickers as it turns to face Robin. 

_"That Tower's my baby."_ Cyborg added. _"You know I'd never let some HIVE half-ass hack her that easily! Ask Nightwing - he helped me build it back in the day, remember?"_

"Don't worry, Cy." Cassie reassured him. "It's okay. We know how much this place means to you." 

Cyborg smiles at her, his red eye gleaming warmly. 

Well, as 'warmly' as a lifeless, cybernetic eye _can be_. 

_"Just sit tight for now."_ he reassures us. _"I've got some League business to take care of right now, but I should be able to make it over to San Francisco sometime next week..."_

My blood ran cold. Wait, a _week_?! 

"...and I should be able to update the security systems then." 

' _Should'_ be able to update security? Was there _doubt?!_

_"...Cyborg Out."_

"Hey, wait I-!" 

But Cyborg cuts the transmission before I can finish. 

A _week_ ?! You mean to tell me that I have to wait a _week_ to have our security fixed? Oh God, this day was getting worse and worse... 

The others look too lost in thought to notice my panic. Robin curls a finger around his chin, while Cassie's just standing there, humming thoughtfully. 

The only person who seems concerned about this besides me is Gar. Or it could just be him wondering what he's going to have for dinner - you can never tell with him.

"...So what do we do now?" he asks. "Has there been any word from Superboy or Arrowette?" 

Cassie shakes her head. "Nothing. The HIVE Leader we caught hasn't said anything. Only he won't shut up about the 'house-maid' that ruined his 'master plan'." 

She says the last few words with a poorly hidden snicker, my eyes rolling as Cassie bites her cheeks. 

"I'm a house _keeper."_ I tell her, gritting my teeth. " _Not_ a housemaid!" 

"Yeah, except for that 'one time'." Bart snickers. The lazy little speedster had been laying on the white lounge (the undamaged one) for the last hour, flipping through piles of old gaming magazines. "That 'one time', y'know, at that guy's house party?" 

The memory of my panicked babbling in front of that HIVE Leader returns to my mind. I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying my best to will the memory away, but it persists - digging into my mind like some angry cat torn from it's resting spot. 

"Bart, c'mon," Cassie defends me. "Nate's had a rough day." 

But Bart keeps cackling, swatting the sofa in a fit of laughter as his skinny legs kick the air. 

"Yeah," he snickers. "But look on the bright side, bro - at least this HIVE boss is having as bad a day as you are..." 

I almost drop the broom. 

"DUDE!" Gar exclaims. 

"What?" Bart snorts, his laughter persisting. "Nate got chased around the Tower and the Leader's 'master plan' went up in smoke. Both equally bad days-" 

"WHAT?" 

The last word comes out more aggressively than I intended it to. 

"'The HIVE Boss is having as bad a day' as I am? What the _fuck_ does that mean!?" 

Everyone's looking at me now, their eyes wide in shock as they watch my anger bubble to the surface, my teeth grit like some wild animal. 

Bart freezes up on the lounge. His mouth, normally stuffed with carbs and snacks, is completely agape; the magazine in his hands slipping from his fingers. 

"W-Whoa, dude...." he stammers. "I-I didn't m-mean to-" 

"Didn't mean to _what?"_ I snap back, the broom clattering as I throw it across the floor. "Didn't mean to make light of one of the _worst_ days of my life?! To be completely unsupportive?! To make fun of a moment when I was terrified for my _life_ ?! When I almost _fucking died_?!

"H-Hey, Nate," I hear Cassie take a step forward behind me. "I think you need to take a minute and calm down-" 

But I didn't want to 'calm down'. My lack of 'calm' was the only thing stopping me from turning into a scared, shaking mess. 

"No, look, I'm sorry guys, but I can't handle this right now. Cleaning the Tower and stuff? That's my job, I love doing it. Making meals? Great! Scrubbing stains out of super-suits? Okay, sure. Monitoring battles in the Sim-Room? Alright, I'm down for that. Hell, when Gar turns himself into a dinosaur and takes a big steaming _shit_ in the garden-" 

Gar's eyes boggle. "Whoa, hey! That was _one time_ -" 

"Quiet Gar." I cut him off. "All _that_ stuff, I can handle. But trigger happy super-thugs charging in, blowing shit up and shooting at me? _That_ is where I cross the line! Right there, no further! B-Because t-that's...that's..!" 

My voice trails off as my adrenaline surge fizzes out. And as my anger disappeared, the shakiness returned; my body trembling so violently that I almost couldn't stand. 

I feel everyone's eyes on me like hot, heavy raindrops, my gaze shifting to the floor. 

"...I-I'm sorry." I sigh. "...I just...I..." 

I pinch the bridge of my nose as Gar moves towards me, his lime-green eyes brimming with concern. "Hey, bro, it's alri-" 

But like Cassie before him, I stepped away, picking the broom up from the floor and power-walking away as fast as I can. 

"I, uh, need to go clean up the kitchen. A-All the vomit and blood a-and stuff..." 

Ignoring everyone's pitying gazes, I pick up the dustpan and start for the stairs. 

"Then, um, t-then I'm just gonna go lie down for a bit..." 

And before anyone else could speak, I was already running up the stairs, tears stinging the edges of my eyes. 

  
  


**NEUTRAL POV**

  
  


"Oh. My. _Gods_." 

The Titans stood in dumbfounded silence as they beheld the security recording from HIVE's attack, their jaws dropping lower with every new frame of footage. 

And not in a good way. 

With each passing frame, the Titans found a new reason to pity Nate; another video of the boy making a spectacle of himself.   
Connor winced. “Damn, Nate…” 

The first display hadn’t been so bad; the way the bucket tumbled down the stairs and knocked out two of the HIVE thugs. 

“Not gonna lie,” Gar laughed. “That was kinda cool.” 

The second had been a little iffier, the feed of Nate yelling wordlessly at the Panic Room intercom… 

“I _told_ you we should have checked the Panic Room before we left!” Cassie groaned. 

...And of course, Nate’s failed attempts to kick the door down. 

“Oh my God,” Cissie scoffed. “He did _not_ just try to kick a metal door down, did he?” 

“Hey, cut him some slack.” Cassie folded her arms. “He was desperate.” 

Cissie took a handful of popcorn from Bart (the speedster’s fifth snack in the last six minutes) and scoffed again. “Desperate or stupid?” 

Cassie opened her mouth to speak when the camera recording switched to the kitchen, her words vanishing as she and the rest of the Titans watched the HIVE thug shot by his own bullet-

“HOLY SHIT!” Gar exclaimed. 

-Followed quickly by Nate throwing up into the kitchen sink. 

"Oh, man," Connor gagged. "I'm _never_ using that sink again…”

“...Am I the only one who saw Nate _kill_ a guy with a frying pan and a ricochet?” Bart asked incredulously, his cheeks bulging like a squirrel’s. "Oh, man, we should send a tape of this to _Ridiculousness..._ " 

He took a single step towards the computer panel, but Cassie blocked him with her arm. 

"Are you _crazy_ ?!" she exclaimed, swatting the chips out of Bart's hands. "You'd seriously send Tower footage to _Ridiculousness? Secret_ Tower footage?" 

"Yeah, man," Connor laughed. "That would be so-" 

Cassie glared at him. 

"Uh..." Connor gulped. "So... _so wrong_. No way we'd do that!" 

Bart rolled his eyes. " _Simp_." 

Connor jabbed Bart's arm as Cassie turned her attention towards Robin. The Boy Wonder was still seated in his swivel chair, seated cross-legged and his fingers steepled. 

"Nate's been through enough today." Cassie told him. "The last thing he needs is to be humiliated on some crappy reality show."

Cissie smiled to herself, resting back against the wall. "I dunno. They say it's always good to learn a little humility..." 

Cassie ignored her and drew closer to Robin, putting a hand on the back of his chair. 

"You saw it too, didn't you? The way he was shaking? How he kept staring into space? How it felt like he wanted to be anywhere but here?" 

"Yeah," Bart interrupted. "And how he blew up at me for making a joke-" 

"Oh, you were asking for that one, bro." Gar chided him. 

Bart grumbled under his breath as Robin leaned back in his chair, his eyes furrowing beneath his domino mask. 

"HIVE's attack showed us that they knew where to hit our security systems." he recounted. " _And_ bypass our protective measures. Cyborg's plans to update the security next week isn't going to be enough if we don't have contingencies in place." 

"Contingencies?" Cissie asked. "Like what?" 

"Like limiting the people who can leave the Tower," Robin explained. "Regulating those who stay here, being more vigilant about intruders, updating security more frequently, having two or more Titans stay to protect the Tower _and_ Nate..." 

Connor folded his arms. "But wouldn't that be going a little overboard? What if there's some big attack in town or something? Having people stay at the Tower would take us down two members and-" 

"Lower our effectiveness, at best." Robin answered him. "And at worst, _endanger_ us." 

"So...what?" Gar asked, his moss-green face incredulous. "We just sit around and hope for the best? That Cy's new system holds up and that HIVE doesn't come knockin' again with _more_ thugs?" 

A wave of dread and helplessness washed over the group, the concern on their faces highlighted by the soft blue of the computer screen. Of course it was a terrible plan - even when someone as laid-back as Gar talked about it. Of course they didn't want to leave one of their own endangered. And of course they didn't want to leave Nate feeling unwanted or unsafe. 

But there were protocols in place - rules that had been observed since the founding days of the Teen Titans. 

The rotations, 'power-balances', reserve members, induction of _new_ members, street patrols - these things would be jeopardised if _anyone_ had to stay behind to defend Nate. And the safety of the Tower and all it's inhabitants as well. 

Robin clenched his steepled fingers together. 

...But were these rules of 'protection' even worth it if they left one of their own _un_ -protected? 

"Crazy thought." Cissie mumbled, resting her chin on her hand. "We could always fire hi-"

" _No_ ." Cassie chided. "We're _not_ firing Nate." 

"Yeah," Bart agreed. "Wouldn't firing a guy for being shot at and chased be like victim-shaming or something?" 

Cissie let out a groan, slumping back in her chair. 

"Will then what do we do?" she scoffed. "It's a problem for us and for the team if we leave people to defend him and it's a problem if we _don't_. If the table's the obstacle..." 

"Nate's not a table _or_ an obstacle." Connor folded his arms. "He's our-"

"He's our 'friend'." Cissie mimicked in a whiny voice. "Yadda, yadda, yadda, I know. But what else can we do? It's not like the guy knows how to fight or defend himself..." 

"But what if he could?" 

Everyone stopped and looked at Robin, the boy's brow creased and eyes narrowed thoughtfully. 

And at that moment, a light bulb went off in everyone's heads. Cassie was the first to recognise Robin's train of thought, her ruby lips curling into a smile. Connor was the second, his expression as ecstatic as Cassie's. Then Gar, then Bart until finally...

"Oh, hell NO!" Cissie exclaimed, her face aghast. "Are you for real?!" 

"I am." Robin smiled. 

This just infuriated Cissie further. 

"No! You're not seriously thinking of-" 

***********

"...Training me?" 

As of last year, the Titans Tower has two 'training' facilities.

The first is the Simulation Room. for more 'hardcore' training. 

It's spacious, secure and teched the hell out, which makes it perfect for hardcore training.

Only problem is it's deep underground (in Sub-Basement 2, to be exact), so it's kinda gloomy and _not_ for claustrophobes. And don't get me started on what the static electricity does to your hair.

Then you've got the Gymnasium (real creative name there...); a two-storey high room for 'routine' Titans workouts. No hologram machines like the Simulation Room, but it's spacious, _way_ easier to clean _and_ it comes with heated linoleum wood floors and ACs. 

A weary yawn escapes my mouth.

...Which is _really_ helpful when you get woken up at six- _fucking_ -AM on a _Sunday!_

Now, I might have strayed a step or two (or _thirty_ ) in the Catholicism department, but I'm still a firm believer in the whole 'Day of Rest' thing. 

That and snakes are irredeemably evil. 

So, here I am - standing in front of all the Teen Titans, with the blinding San-Fran sun in my eyes, freezing my ass off, wearing nothing but my fuzzy slippers and owl pyjamas. 

Yeah, this morning can go fuck itself. 

"I..." another yawn. "Wha-what's this all about, Robin?" 

At least I _think_ I'm talking to Robin. I'm that tired that if I squint real hard, I can swear I'm talking to the _Grinch_. 

"The Titans and I have been wracking our brains for a solution to helping you," Robin tells me, standing at ease like a drill sergeant. "One that doesn't involve endangering you, the Titans Tower or mean that we have to fire you." 

That last line wakes me up. Fired? Since when was that an opti- Oh wait, I bet that was Cissie's fault... 

I look to Robin's left as he keeps talking, to a _very_ unhappy-looking Cissie. 

Heh, judging by that pout and icy glare, I guess I've still got a job! Sucks to be you, you arrow-flinging Ice Queen-

"Nate, are you listening?" 

I snap back to attention as Robin calls out to me, his eyes staring dead into mine. Jesus, if there was any doubt this guy worked with Batman... 

"As I was saying," Robin sighs. "Since we can't just leave team members here to watch you without endangering the others and there's no way that we're kicking you out," he frowns at Cissie. "Then our only option is to train you to look after yourself."  
Cissie pokes her tongue at him as Robin leads us to the rightmost side of the room. 

Unlike the rest of the training room, this area has a sunken floor and a 10m x 10m section of jet-grey training mats, with a ring of circles sprayed in the centre. 

There’s a weapons rack wedged against the wall, coloured in the same gleaming, almond-brown of the floorboards.

Swords, bo staffs, arnis sticks, even some nunchucks and spears. I know they’re all plastic and wood but Jesus, I really hope these aren’t part of the training session. After yesterday, I’m not sure I can look at another weapon… 

Right on cue, my left hand starts trembling again, shaking at my side until I grip my wrist and squeeze tightly. 

“The basics of any self-defence training starts with hand-to-hand combat.” Robin explains, unaware of my shaking hands. He walks over to the weapons rack and pulls out a pair of white boxing gloves. 

"For now, we're just gonna start with some basic sequences. Gar will be your partner." 

I forget my worries and slip the gloves on. The leather padding on the outside might be a little coarse, but the inside has an almost velvet-like softness.

Man, I might have to get one of these for myself.

"Gar, what the hell are you doing?" 

I look up from my gloves as I hear Connor's voice, his brawny arms folded as he watches Gar jump around on the floor in front of me. 

...Is Gar having a fit or something? 

"Pumpin' it up." Gar snickers, punching the air. 

"Pumping up what?" Cissie snorts. "Your _ego_?" 

Cassie shakes her head, trying to hide her laughter. 

"Naw, pumpin' myself up! Ain't no way I'm letting the housekeeper beat me!" 

_The housekeeper has a name, you lime-green jackass._

But Gar, unfazed by what he said, keeps dancing around on the spot. He jabs at the air, alternating fists and feet like some violent folk dance. 

Yeah, I'm no expert on fighting stances, but I'm pretty sure that that's _not_ how you do them. 

Once again, Gar laughs at me, mockingly as if he can read my mind. Yep, _not_ a fighting stance. At least not to anyone that isn't a total Chad... 

"Can't touch this, bro." Gar hums to himself. "Can't touch this, can't touch this..." 

Jesus, they weren't kidding about the 'gets fired up' thing. 

I sigh as Robin urges me into the circle, raising my fists so they're level with my eyes. Now, I might not have much experience fighting...well, whatever the hell Gar is, but I've had plenty of experience dealing with trash-talkers with bark worse than bite. 

Now, how did I do that maneuver again? 

"I'm just gonna say 'sorry' in advance, Gar." I apologise, getting a weird look from Cissie and Bart. 

But Gar just shrugs my apology off. “What’ve you got to apologise for, bro? I’m the-”

Crack! 

Gar stumbles backwards as my fist connects with his nose, a sound somewhere between a grunt and a muffled squeak escaping his mouth. 

A stunned silence falls over the room like a guillotine, with everyone (save for Robin) looking at me with slack jaws. 

"...What?" I ask, ignoring Gar's grumbling. "What did I do?" 

Bart's the first to speak, or at least the first to _attempt_ to - his eyes boggling as he points at me accusingly. 

"Y-Y-You..!" he stammers. "D-Did you- Did you just _K.O. Gar?!"_

I shake my head, rubbing the back of my neck. "Well, technically he's still conscious, so it doesn't count as a K.O-"

"DUDE!" Connor exclaims, his chiselled jaw agape. "Since when do _you_ know when to _punch?!"_

Cassie smacks his arm as I shrug meekly, my gloves clapping the sides of my legs. "Um, since forever? I mean, I grew up in Goth-" 

Robin glares at me from behind his mask, my words turning to sand in my mouth as he places a finger to his lips. 

Oh, shit, I'm not supposed to talk about that! 

Failing to see Robin's gesture, everyone looks at me suspiciously; their faces shifting from shock to confusion as I struggle to shift the conversation. 

"Alright, REMATCH!" 

All of us look back towards Gar, who has recovered from my swing earlier. He's got his fists raised again and his posture is better, but the fire in his eyes is still burning. 

I breathe a sigh, a tremendous weight lifting off my chest. Perfect timing. I've never been more thankful for Gar's antics. 

"Sure you want a rematch, bro?" Bart snickers. "I mean, Nate did kinda kick your ass." 

"He got lucky." Gar mumbled. "It was just a warm-up." 

I purse my lips. "Well, if you say so..." 

Robin folds his arms and nods towards the middle circle. His eyes move between us; first towards me, then to Gar and then to the floor as he rubs his chin with his index finger. 

"Try fighting Nate with a sequence this time." he tells Gar. "We know he can handle a single hit, so let's see how he does with a bunch of them at once." 

I'm right here, you know... 

Robin urges me into the centre circle, my body fighting the urge to roll my eyes as Gar beats his fists together. Y'know, I think I've seen a movie like this before. 

Yeah, one guy wanted to get across a bridge and go about his business, but this other guy kept insisting on fighting him. 

Spoiler Alert, the other guy got his limbs hacked off. Kind of dark, I know, but there's a valuable lesson to be learned there - don't go seeking out fights. Even if you're a hyperactive shape-shifter like Gar is. 

Now, I'm not saying that I'm gonna hack Gar's arms off, but he could do us both a favour and rein in the enthusiasm...

Gar sniffs and raises his fists again as Robin clears his throat. 

“Alright, consider this a rematch. Gar, change it up to a basic one-two-three combination.” 

Shrugging off his bravado, Gar nods and charges at me again, following through with the three hit combo. But as the third blow comes towards me, I block it, shove his arm aside and pirouette into Gar’s left side-

_CRACK!_

...And elbow him straight in the jaw.

Once again, Gar falls backwards, this time clutching his cheek and swearing under his breath as everyone else stares at me again.

"What the hell was that man?!” Bart gasps. “If you knew how to do this stuff, then why didn't you just fight the HIVE guys when they attacked?" 

My jaw almost drops from my head as Bart speaks. Oh yeah, why didn't I think of that? Just charge at a group of guys with sub-machine guns with my bare fists. Sure! 

That would have been an even worse obituary than the Panic Room shooting - 'Local Boy Puts Up Fists & Gets Put _Down!_ RIP, Local Idiot!' 

"...I'm not even gonna answer that question." I sigh. 

Bart mutters something under his breath as Connor helps Gar up, patting his arm meekly as he whimpers like a baby. 

"Alright," Robin claps his hands. "Well, since you can handle Gar, I think we'll switch out partners. Cissie, you're up." 

I stop. Wait, _Cissie_?! 

Cissie walks into the circle, a brown hair-tie between her lips. Without so much as a breath of effort, she pulls her straight blonde locks into a tight ponytail and grabs a pair of crimson boxing gloves from Cassie. 

"Good luck." I hear Cassie say, a light sing-songy tone to her voice. 

But Cissie scoffs. "I've gone up against Merlyn and Count Vertigo with Green Arrow. A pervy housekeeper is nothing." 

Oh for God's sake, there she goes again. How many times do I have to tell her that it was an _accident_? 

Like Gar before her, she beats her gloves together. But _un_ like Gar, she forms a solid fighting stance; her toes pointing forward and her hands raised in front of her face like a pro-boxer. 

I stifle a laugh. _Float like a butterfly, sting like a bratty bitch._

I form a similar, but slightly more relaxed stance, my shoulders loose. But even then, something about this doesn't feel right. 

...Am I _really_ going to hit a girl? 

"Yeahhh," I wince. "No thanks..." 

I drop my stance and stand upright as the others look at me quizzically. Robin seems unsurprised, Connor, Cassie and Bart look confused and Cissie looks like I just spat in her face. 

"What's wrong?" Robin asks me. "You need to face your opponent." 

"Well, yeah," I mumble, glancing away from Cissie's glare. "Just...just a different opponent than Cissie...okay?” 

Now it’s Robin’s turn to be confused. “Why not? You two have been at each other’s throats all year. Consider this a time to let off some steam.” 

“But I don’t _want_ to ‘let off steam’,” I protest, tearing off my gloves. “I don’t hit girls.” 

Cissie’s scowl turns downright venomous as I fold my gloves up and toss them outside the ring. 

Yeah, I know how to fight, but I also know you shouldn't hit girls too. 

I glare back at Cissie. 

...Even the ones that make you want to drink bleach. 

"Are you _shitting me_ ?" Cissie exclaims. "You choose _now_ of all times to be _nice_ to me?” 

“Hey, whoa,” I raise my hands with a scoff. “I didn’t say shit about being _nice_ to you. This is about being _chivalrous._ ” 

But Cissie just scoffs at me again, folding her arms over her crop-top. “It’s passive-aggressive misogyny, more like it.”

My eyes boggle. Passive-aggressive miso-WHAT? Who the hell talks like that?

“Nate, c’mon!” Connor claps his hands attentively. “Are you guys gonna fight or what?” 

I shake my head. “No, I’ve told you already, I’m not going to fight her. No matter which way you slice it. No fighting, no beating, no training and definitely no ‘ass-kicking’-” 

“Well, that’s a shame,” Cissie smirks, rolling her neck. “Makes this so much easier…” 

Oh, for goodness’ sake. “What the hell are-” 

Cissie yells and leaps into the air, the flat of her foot kicking me square in the face. 

_"GAGH!"_

Everything turns into a linoleum wood and sunlit blur as I fall backwards, my head hitting the mats like a bowling ball. 

Uggghhhhh. Yep, I fucked that one up...

A fog descends on my brain as I hear footsteps and voices all around me, my vision going blurry, clear, blurry and then six more kinds of blurry.

Question - is it normal for your nose to be gushing blood? 

One of the blurred figures (Robin, I assume) bends down near me and starts yelling something at another one of the blurs. 

Well, it's less 'yelling' and more like shouting in garbled underwater sounds... 

Follow-up question; were there always three Robins? Like, one normal looking Robin and two very blurry ones- 

Oh shit, I think I'm losing conscious...URGH. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for keeping you all waiting so long for the next chapter - was busy with job hunting this year, COVID Marshall practice and then I find out that my laptop corrupted the files of my Hero Housekeeper FILES! :(  
> Anyways, the next chapter is being worked on RN and the earlier chapters will be changed to be more to the point and easily read. If you have any further feedback/comments/questions please alert me. 
> 
> Thanks guys! Tune in next time for when Nate continues his training AND meets his very first supervillain! Who could it be, you ask? Well, let's just say he's gonna bring one helluva *WAR* to Nate's doorstep...


End file.
